


The Magnus Institute But Everyone's Doing Just Great

by Elizaveta_Chyornyj, thegreatandpowerfultoaster



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (In some chapters more than others), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Worms, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Everyone works at the institute at once so i dont have to look at dates ever again au, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fridge Horror, Humor, Modern Era, Multi, more or less
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22194034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizaveta_Chyornyj/pseuds/Elizaveta_Chyornyj, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatandpowerfultoaster/pseuds/thegreatandpowerfultoaster
Summary: A collection of fics based on the premise that 1) everyone is working at the Magnus Institute at the same time and 2) the powers are used solely for comedy.
Relationships: Jane Prentiss & Martin Blackwood, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 15
Kudos: 120





	1. Tea, But Like With Worms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue the saga of my weird worm thing. Is this a subconscious thing? Has my previous trauma led me here? Maybe I just think Jane Prentiss is hot.

Jonathan Sims is halfway into their flat when he falls flat on his ass. "Martin, I brought grocer-Ahh!"

Martin is quick to rush to his side, eyes comically wide behind his thick, round glasses. "Jon? Jon, are you alright? Did you trip?"

"Martin!" He yells eloquently, pointing to the floor behind Martin. "Worms!"

He is blinked at once, and then again. "I sent you a text."

"About the fact that there are those damn worms in our flat?!"

"Jon, calm down! Jane is over for tea!"

That sentence does not help him to calm down any. " _Martin_! Jane Prentiss is here, and you're okay with that? My carpet is covered in worms! What else is covered in worms, Martin!?"

Martin has the audacity to roll his eyes at Jon, before offering him a hand up and speaking slowly like he's a toddler apt to throw a tantrum at any moment. "Why don't you come in the kitchen and sit down, and I'll get you a cup of tea, alright?" 

Jon heaves a sigh but lets Martin help him to his feet and press a short kiss to the top of his head. He should be used to strange things by now, but somehow Jane Prentiss and Martin having evening tea together is still an unfathomable event. 

Because yes, there at the kitchen table, surrounded by hundreds, possibly thousands of short silver worms. Jon cannot do anything but sigh again, nod in greeting to both the worms and the woman herself and sit at the opposite end of the small dining table. 

Martin brings him tea a moment later, and sits next to Jane, dragging his own cup lightly across the table as he draws it towards himself. "So, Jane. You were telling me about your poetry?"

"Yes," she says slowly. "I believe I was."

She speaks very slowly, but you can mostly understand her just fine, and she doesn't even have to move many of her worms out the way when she talks. Martin is remarkably calm about the whole thing. At some point, he looks at Jon. "You okay? You're not looking very well."

Oh. Always observant, that Martin. Why would Jon possibly be not okay with a woman filled with worms in his flat, talking nicely to his boyfriend, who she'd once trapped by himself for almost two weeks. Why would Jon take issue with that.

"I'm fine, thank you. I just tired, is all. Don't let me interrupt." 

They don't, they keep talking. 

Jane finally looks at the clock. "I have to go, but maybe we could do this again? I haven't had such lovely conversation since - I'm not even sure." 

"Oh! Oh, of course. I'd like that. Maybe next week, at the same time." 

She agrees, and Martin escorts her to the door. A moment later he hears it open and close again, and Martin comes to sit next to him and hold his hand. Though he's scowling, Jon lets him.

"See, she's nice. And interesting."

"Have you already forgotten what she did to you? It wasn't that long ago."

"We talked about it," Martin says softly. "It was just a misunderstanding, there isn't any reason we can't be friends." 

"Martin. Martin. I love you -"

"Oh!" He says, and that's when Jon realizes that this conversation is over. "Good, I love you too." 

There's a knock on the door, and Jon lets himself facepalm into the table as soon as Martin is out of sight. "I'm sorry," he hears Jane say just behind him, and he raises his head long enough to see her walk towards the counter and pluck something squirming off of it. "I just forgot something. Oh, goodbye, Archivist!"

"Goodbye, Jane." He says weakly. "Have a lovely day."

The door opens and closes again, and he hears Martin next to him. "Jon..."

"No, no. Don't say anything, just find me the disinfectant wipes."


	2. This is Not What the Beholding is Used For

"I haven't the slightest clue why you've dragged me along, Sasha, I don't know the first thing about sewing."

He is - as expected entirely out of his element at a craft store. Sasha just smiles at him. "I want your opinions! Besides, it'll be fun. I took Martin last week, but he's colourblind."

"Oh," Jon says. "I don't suppose he's very good with fabrics then." 

"Not especially. And Tim just likes to touch everything, so I figured you dress - uhh...sensibly. So you could help."

Jon narrows his eyes at her. "Glad to know I was your first choice, Sasha."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that, Jon! Just cmon, let's go look at patterns."

They do, for a bit. And then yarn. 

"Oh, Hello Sasha. Archivist." 

"Hi, Annabelle!"

Jon just grunts in response. Although Annabelle Cane isn't especially threatening looking while comparing two spools of yarn to each other, he is still well aware (even if everyone else doesn't seem to be) that the Avatars are all dangerous. 

They move on to looking at fabric, and Jon is finding that he doesn't mind this whole thing as much as he's pretending to. The shop has a nice smell, and the bolts of fabric on either side of him aren't making him feel ridiculously crowded, just cozy. 

In fact, he's feeling quite glad Sasha had dragged him along. 

"I like this one," she says, tapping a bolt of yellow cotton with polka dots. "I'm just not sure if there's enough, you know?" 

"Of course there is," he rolls his eyes. "There's more than enough, even being that you need -"

Sasha smiles at him, innocently. 

"You brought me so I could measure fabric for you. That is not what Knowing is meant to be used for, Sasha!


End file.
